


Three of a Kind

by icandrawamoth



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Clones, Crack, How Do I Tag, I Blame Tumblr, I Don't Even Know, Kinda, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations, Public Display of Affection, Self-cest, Tumblr Prompt, extreme hand-wavey explanations, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 08:20:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17639210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: Wedge Antilles is having breakfast with himself. Notbyhimself, but literally with two men who share his face. And they have a surprise for him.





	Three of a Kind

**Author's Note:**

> Boy, guys, IDK about this nonsense. I have a Tumblr anon who keeps sending me asks about a crackverse where there are just so many Wedges, and then they sent a prompt ask of "wedge/wedges" and "a kiss in public." This fic was not what they expected. XD (At least here's hoping it was the same person, else this could get awkward...)

Wedge Antilles is having breakfast with himself. Not _by_ himself, but literally with two men who share his face.

It's strange how not strange it's come to feel. Whatever incident brought this upon them, a span of days when seeming clones of himself kept popping up around Yavin 4 for no reason, had stopped as quickly and inexplicably as it started and left a dozen copies of Wedge Antilles behind. Each of them is completely similar to Wedge physically and shares the same memories up to the point of their appearance; only their personalities seem to differ, all clearly recognizable as him but with one trait or another more dominant than the rest. One is angry, one is anxious, one is joyful, and so on, and though they seem to have a spread of emotions like any other human, they always return to their baseline.

No one knows where they came from. Wedge hadn't touched anything or done anything unusual. Nor had anyone else that can be determined. The new Wedges don't seem to show any sign of dispersing suddenly like they had appeared, and though some are still trying to figure out this strange phenomenon, the Rebellion needs bodies, so they've been inducted into the ranks. (Someday Wedge will stop hearing jokes about how they could form an entire X-wing squadron simply from his copies. Someday.)

So, yes, Wedge is having breakfast with two other versions of himself. One is the anxious one, eyes on his tray the entire time as one hand fidgets in his lap. He'd asked early on in his existence, hesitant and quiet, if he could be called Veggies to differentiate him from the others, and Wedge had ceded the childhood nickname to him.

The other man at the table is the Wedge who errs on the side of happiness. There's always a smile on his face, a joke close at hand, and he's one of the more bewildering copies, because that's just not who Wedge is, especially now in the aftermath of the Death Star battle. His hair is different too, brushed up and gelled into a ridiculous nest that Wedge is absolutely certain Wes Janson had something to do with. For obvious reasons everyone had immediately taken to calling this man “Happy Wedge,” and not long after someone had joking said they should shorted it to “Hedge.” The Wedge copy had grinned, chuckled, and said why not, so now he's Hedge Antilles.

Wedge doesn't know why these are the two versions of himself he's found the easiest to be with, but he'd rather not analyze it. They get along, and who could one be closer to than copies of themselves, imperfect or otherwise? He gets on with the rest, too, but Veggies and Hedge and he seem to gravitate towards each other, and he isn't going to question it.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Hedge asks conversationally.

Wedge shrugs. “Just how weird it is that all of this somehow became normal.”

Veggies glances up at him quickly then back down as his tray. “Yeah,” he mutters, the pace of his fidgeting increasing.

Hedge reaches below the table, obviously taking his hand, and Veggies goes still. Calm. Wedge tilts his head at the gesture and the reaction.

“Are you two...?” he asks before he can stop himself. It's an odd idea, but what can even be considered odd anymore?

Veggies's face goes absolutely red as Hedge chuckles lightly. “We already know each other better than anyone else, right?”

“Sure. Isn't it strange though?” Wedge can feel his own face reddening as he tries not to picture two copies of his own body kissing, touching, in bed together...

“I think we've gotten used to it,” Veggies ventures. He steals another glance at Wedge, and the expression on his face is different this time. Wedge can't place it.

“We've been thinking since it started,” Hedge says. “If there's already two of us, why not three?”

Wedge's brows furrow. “I don't understand.”

Hedge rolls his eyes, mutters, “We really are that clueless,” and leans across the table to grab Wedge's collar, tugging the started man forward until their lips meet.

Wedge's brain short-circuits. He's kissing himself. But it's not really himself. But it is.

He doesn't pull away.

Someone hoots loudly from the other side of the mess followed by a smattering of laughter and applause, and Hedge lets him go. Wedge sinks back into his seat, breathing hard. “Me?” he asks weakly, still trying to process what's just happened.

Veggies is smiling now, looking between Hedge and Wedge like he's just been given the best lifeday present ever.

“You, too?” Wedge continues, still utterly flummoxed.

“We both like you,” Veggies says, quiet but assured. “We wondered if...”

“ _Kriff_ ,” Wedge mutters, rubbing his hands over his face. “I'm being pursued and corralled by _myself_.”

“I'm sorry if we're making you uncomfortable,” Veggies says, shrinking down in his seat.

“No.” Wedge finds himself reaching out almost without meaning to, making an encouraging gesture. Hesitantly, Veggies puts his free hand in Wedge's, and Wedge curls his fingers around it. “I wasn't expecting this,” he admits, looking between the two men seated opposite him. Both of them are watching him back, breathless and vulnerable. Wedge swallows and brings a smile to his face. “I'm not saying I'm not interested.”

Answering smiles wash across the faces of his companions.

“It might take some getting used to, for me,” Wedge cautions. “And I guess I can't promise anything. But we can see what happens?”

He's still holding Veggies's hand, and now Hedge reaches over and lays his atop theirs, the three of them joined. “That's all we can ask for,” he says.

Veggies is looking at Wedge, specifically at a certain part of him a little below his eyes, and Wedge knows the question he's too shy to ask. “Do you want a kiss, too?”

Veggies flushes and nods. Wedge smiles again, feeling a little more in control of the situation as they both lean forward until their lips meet, brief and chaste. It feels...surprisingly normal, when he lets it.

“We're going to get teased mercilessly, you know,” Wedge sighs, but he can't help the sudden warm feeling in his chest. “They'll say how full of ourselves we are. How I am.”

Hedge grins as he leans in conspiratorially and murmurs, “Yeah, but think about this: since we're the same, we know what each other likes.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Imagine the sex.”

“Kriff,” Wedge says, hiding his face again, though he's sure he's glowing with the force of his blush. He _is_ imagining it. And looking forward to it.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Blood Tied](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17653796) by [icandrawamoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth)




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